My car attendant was probably asleep; I was let onboard the Superliner sleeping car by an assistant conductor. The refurbished car had warm wood tones...on the walls, blue carpets, and the mild smell I can only think of as “the Amtrak smell.” I got to my room, number 12 in the downstairs of the car. It was already set up for sleeping, with the seats being made into a lower bed, starched white sheets showing, a plastic wrapped blue mod-acrylic blanket on the foot of the bed if I were to see fit to. We stood there in the airport, holding each other. She was crying. I was expecting that. I just held her.She gained her composure, I grabbed her hand, and off to baggage claim we went. Kristen reminded of that scared, nervous freshman, whose parents pushed her out of the nest. I was there for her then, and now in her greatest heartbreak, I’m here for her again. “You look gorgeous,” I told her. “Please don’t,” she wiped her eyes. “You do. Crying face and all,” I smiled at her. I put my. More

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